One week on, and the shock of Genoa has not faded. On the contrary, the last seven days have revealed that the ugly television pictures broadcast last week from the G8 summit were the least of it. Police brutality on an even more savage scale was meted out to anti-capitalist protesters - including peaceful ones - far away from the cameras. British activists have come home recounting desperate experiences, explaining how the headquarters of their non-violent Genoa Social Forum were raided by uniformed thugs who clubbed, kicked and punched indiscriminately. Later the protesters were held in conditions they likened to Chile or Argentina under dictatorship: denied legal or consular access, they were deprived of food and sleep for 36 hours and subjected to a form of psychological torture. One account speaks of demonstrators beaten if they refused to say out loud that the carabinieri were their "government".

These revelations are, most immediately, a severe problem for Italy. Silvio Berlusconi has promised no cover-up; he needs to go further and heed the calls for an independent, parliamentary inquiry. Even that may not be enough; the demand for an international investigation may grow. Italy needs to handle this matter with care. There are already rumours of fascist infiltration into the Genoa police force; today demonstrators will gather outside the Italian embassy in London to vent their anger. If this concern is not taken seriously and the carabinieri's behaviour goes unpunished, Rome's reputation will be irreparably damaged. Italy is a lead member of the European Union and a democracy: the world expects it to behave like one.

But Genoa has left the British government some questions of its own to answer. For our most senior politicians let us down badly. They were among the first to condemn the protesters. When Europe minister Peter Hain dared suggest that "serious questions" had to be asked about the police operation, he was rapidly slapped down by a Number 10 anxious not to offend Italy (seen, along with Spain, as a crucial ally for London within the EU). Instead Tony Blair spoke of a "world gone mad" that paid more attention to demonstrations than to the declarations he and his fellow leaders had made inside Genoa's ducal palace. Jack Straw followed his master, describing the demonstrators as "mad". Small wonder that Britain has not made a formal complaint to Rome; that Mr Straw has not spoken to his Italian opposite number and that it has been the British media - not government - which has objected to this vile treatment of British citizens.

Unfortunately, the week's events are all of a piece with two of New Labour's least attractive traits: its authoritarian streak and tin ear for liberty. As usual, ministers have lumped peaceful protesters alongside violent ones - rubbishing the lot as nutters. The government's updated version of the Prevention of Terrorism Act is guilty of the same error, failing to distinguish between legitimate dissent and murderous terror: the former is criminalised along with the latter. That law, passed last year, would have made felons of the 1980s anti-apartheid movement, for using Britain as a base of struggle against a foreign tyranny.

Our government now has a battery of tools at its disposal for the stifling of democracy: a demo can be booked for aggravated trespass, obstruction of the highway and even for stalking. But this does not trouble a prime minister who condemns such matters as "libertarian nonsense". It does not trouble him - but it should worry all of us.